Sad Poems : Alcoholic Poet: Charity Sad Poetry.

Alcoholic Poet. Poetry Equals Distance Over Time.

Distance Over Time
Wednesday 4/18/2007 11:49:00 PM

Hey. How ya doing? Long time no snark. You've gained some weight. Hmmm. So have I. It was a lie before we told it. A snowstorm in July. The sex was a plane crash. The love a lawsuit. The friendship an ambulance.

So how are you doing these days? Am fascinated by the cyberstalk. Knowing the past is the drug of choice for those the future has dicked. Are you lonely? Are you lost? It's like solving a cryptogram. Measuring the patterns in the lie against what once was true.

I wouldn't call me either. I wouldn't talk to myself at all. Had I that choice.

How old are you now? How hard does the world press down on those tired veins? It's a new mattress doused in sex for the first time. Steeped in the hiss of brewing skin. The aura is permanent.

You say nothing. I say even less the more that I write. We stare at our toes like scolded children and wait for something to happen to us.

While something still waits for us to find it.

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